


The Wind Breaks

by invisible_doorknob



Category: Emerald City (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, Not A Happy Ending, serious angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9976862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisible_doorknob/pseuds/invisible_doorknob
Summary: Alternate ending for "The Villain That's Become".  Dorothy doesn't stop Lucas.





	

He begs her to stop him.

She doesn’t.

* * *

 

When she lies limp and still beneath him, Roan’s fingers finally obey his frantic will, and open to release her. Dorothy’s head lolls on her ruined throat; her eyes are half-open, but they are fixed on a point past his shoulder, and they are empty. The tip of her tongue is visible through parted lips, and it will never move again to chide or lie or endear.

He has killed enough men to tell when life is gone.

Roan sits back, mind churning in horror. Half of him had wanted this, wanted to be free of her, but the other half still loves her and--

HAD loved her?

His own breath strangles as he searches inside himself. Dorothy is dead, and Glinda was right. Her spell is broken.

And so is he.

There’s nothing left. NOTHING. Glinda is only a shadow now, a distant ivory icon, not the all-consuming passion he remembers.

Dazed, Roan puts his hand to his side, to check if his heart is still beating. It seems impossible that he should still live, and feel nothing, nothing at all.

No, that’s not true. The spells are broken, but in their place is...desolation.

Ruin, like Dorothy’s throat, like Oz after the Beast Forever. He’s a hollow man, filled with emptiness.

He’s killed Dorothy, and his own heart.

There’s nothing left.

* * *

 

After a long time, Roan realises that the wind is rising. When he blinks and looks around, it seems as if a storm is coming, but the breeze circles, not choosing a direction.

Dorothy’s body is an awkward armful when he gathers it up, a broken thing. Her head rests against his chest, and he can’t bear to look down at what he’s done, but Roan knows he will never forget this. Never forget the feel of her weight in his arms, vibrant warmth all gone. Nothing left but cold flesh and bone.

He bears her into the farmhouse, lays her on a clear spot near the door. Gold and gems flash on her hands, but Roan has no care for that; he just straightens slowly, and takes a last look before leaving.

The winds are not yet high enough to be a problem, and Roan doesn’t care anyway. There’s a barrel of lamp oil in the barn, and that’s enough to start the house burning.

He stands and watches the flames for a long time, long enough for the sun to set and the moons to rise. When the house is more coals than fire, the winds strengthen, and as if dreaming Roan sees the tornado begin to form, just as it did after East’s death.

It hovers over the rubble of the farmhouse, sucking up ash almost delicately, and he wonders vaguely how long it will last, and who will come looking for Mistress East’s gauntlets.

It doesn’t matter.

Dorothy may have traveled by tornado, but this one is going nowhere. He is emptied out, with nothing left to anchor him. Even his name seems to belong to someone else.

Slowly, he sets one foot in front of the next, and walks into the spiraling wind.

It lifts him up, and spins him around, and he does not fight it. There is only wind and darkness.

And then there is nothing at all.

~End~


End file.
